After the End
by Odi et amo
Summary: Half shadowed in darkness, her face was not visible to him, but her crumpled form was... DracoHermione, postwar fic with a depressed and suicidal Draco and an amnesiatic Hermione. PLEASE READ!
1. Darkened alleyways

There was a person in the alleyway.

Normally Draco would have kept walking by, but the scene wasn't a normal one. This time it was only one person instead of a whore and her customer, and this person was sobbing in the most heartbreakig manner he had ever heard. Half shadowed in darkness, her face was not visible to him, but her crumpled form was. A once beautiful cocktail dress lay raggedly from her graceful figure, and the damp beaded tails of it clung to her bare legs. The blood red color was stark and contrasted greatly with her pale legs, as did the dark red lace up heels that ran up her ankles and calves. Her arms were wrapped around her as the rain continued to fall.

"Master Malfoy?" Came a high pitched voice to his right, and he looked down into the small gray face of his house elf Merry. "Is Mister Malfoy ready to return home yet sir?"

Home?

No...no he wasn't ready to return home. At home there was nothing but silent rooms and dark memories. The once animated portraits stayed silent whenever he passed, choosing to ignore him a greater part of the time due to their dislike of him. They knew he part he had played in the war. They knew he had taken the dark mark, to their pleasure, and they knew that he had turned spy the moment he had, sending owls to the only person he knew of that gave people second chances.

Remus Lupin.

The man was married now, with a second child on the way, the first having been born a full werewolf as well as a metamorphigi. Their contact had ended after the defeat of Voldemort, and after the death of his father and mother. There was no need to carry on. Besides, he had never told the lycan his name in the letters, always prefering to sign them with a picture of a death eaters mask to let Lupin know who it was to an extent.

But go home? Not right now. He would delay the arrival at Malfoy Manor with whatever excuse he could muster, and the girl lying in the alleyway was an excuse. He shook his head at Merry.

"Not right now. Go on ahead without me, and leave me the umbrella."

The elf did as he was told, and apparated in a cloud of smoke as the umbrella handle adjusted to a normal length.

Draco turned down the alleyway.

oooooooooo

She cried. She cried without reason, and she cried with a good one.

After all, they were still telling her nothing. It had been four years already, but she had still learned nothing about herself on the orders of St. Mungo's. After all this time didn't they realize that he memories would never come back? The least they could do is tell her her last name and how they knew her. It wasn't about fighting in the war she couldn't recall, it was about something further than that.

Harry Potters face filled her mind again and she turned into the wall with a pitiful groan of despair.

How dare he? Him and his smug little wife! Pretending to be her friends, to be sympathetic towards her plight, while undoubtedly laughing behind her back about how they were able to keep her own life from her. How easy it all was thanks to her amnesia. It wasn't as though she had asked for the removal of her memories, or the scar that signified that they may never come back. Yet they did nothing but evade her every question, only telling her what they were allowed to. What was wrong with telling her the names of her parents, or where she had gone to school? Why couldn't they just break the rules for once!

And Ron was no better! Everytime he tried to get close to her it was only an effort to try and worm his way into her heart and bed. He wasn't even trying to help her in the slightest.

And yet she was supposed to have known and loved these people since she was eleven. She was supposed to have helped them fight against the greatest war of the wizarding world and been their closest confidantes every step of the way.

In her own way, Hermione did love them. After all, they had helped her these past years, but they never gave her waht she needed most.

Her own _past._

A soft cough interrrupted her thoughts and she looked up, expecting to see Ron or Harry standing there. Instead there was a man she had never seen before holding an umbrella over her head. For a few seconds his expression was calm, if faintly cold, but then his blue eyes widened ever so slightly and his mouth twisted into a sneer. The umbrella didn't go back though.

"Well, well. If it isn't my favorite little mudlood. Hello Granger." He said. She frowned.

Mudblood? That was a horrid insult! But who was Granger?

"Who's Granger?" She asked, her curiousity getting the better of her. If there was one thing she knew about herself it was that she needed to know everything. Her small apartment was cluttered with books on every topic she could find. She watched as his blond eyebroes rose in a disbelieving manner.

"Honestly, playing stupid? Tsk. That's not the bushy haired know-it-all I remember, or did you forget who you are? Somehow it figures that sooner or later you would have run out of room for all that knowledge and begun forgetting things so you could remember others. I'll only tell you this once, so I hope the knowledge that _you _are Granger doesn't escape you."

She gave a bitter laugh.

"Oh if only it was easy as that. As if I had forgotten only one or two things. But no, fate decided to wipe away everything." Her eyes closed in pain for a minute, then opened, tears beginning again. "So Granger is my name huh? I was told it was Hermione but..."

"What do you mean forgotten everything?" He cut in. "And your name is Hermione Granger. Hermione _Jane _Granger if I must, but such an uncommon name, even on such a common creature, isn't something that passes from memory."

Hermione's eyes widened. Her name? He knew her full name? What else did he know about her? Was he a friend of Harry or Ron's? But if he was he wouldn't have told her anything on the basis that her memory would return on it's own. So who was he? And how much could he tell her?

She thought back. He had called her a mudblood. That meant at least one of her parents was non-magical. Or both. Either way it was a lead.

Hermione stood up and placed a hand against the wall to brace her from shaking legs. She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting but it had obviously been long enough to cause her legs to fall asleep. Or have the blood slow down as it were.

"How much do you know about me?" She asked in a rush. " Do Ron and Harry know you? Are you friends? Who are you? How do you know me?"

He held up a hand before she could ask anymore questions, the sneer gone from his faze to be replaced by an expression of utter amazement.

"Dear Merlin Granger, you seriously don't remember anything?"

"If I did I wouldn't be asking you!"

His eyes softened and a look of pity filled them. He shook his head and gave a ruthful smile.

"I can't tell you these things. But what I can tell you is that the weasel and pothead potter are no friends of mine. Everything else you have to ask them. They are your friends after all."

He turned and began walking back down the alleyway, even as the rain began to fall harder.

With those words all her hopes were dashed. But then again...

"Wait!"

She ran after him when he ignored her and grabbed onto the sleeves of his black robes. He turned, an expression of amazed arrogance on his features.

"What did I tell you woman! This is not any of my business! Your friends are the ones you need to turn to now!" He almost yelled, exasperated beyond belief. At this point even home was looking good. More human contact and conversation was too much for him. He had spent the past yeasr living like a recluse, only speaking when in need of somethong or when spoken to, rarely going out except to walk around or get his broom checked up on. There was no need to be dragged into matters with former enemies that did not concern him.

She held on stubbornly.

"These past four years those very _friends _of mine that you spoke of have not told me a thing! I've lived in the dark about myself all this time, and everyone and anyone friendly with Ron or Harry has kept silent!" Why was he being so unhelpful! "Think about how you would feel not knowing who your family is, who you are! Up until you told me, I didn't know my full name! All I know now is that I am Hermione Granger, friends of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley by _their choice, _and that I own a two-bedroom apartment and work at a library. Other than that I am _nothing!_"

Her chest heaved up and down with her words, and her eyes glittered with emotion. Loose curls floated about her face even as the rain pelted them both. Draco had long ago dropped the umbrella in shock.

"Please! You are the only person who knows them that is not a friend! I don't care if your their aquaintance or enemy, all I care about is that _you know me, and you are free to tell me who I am!"_

Her shoulders slumped and she fell to her knees sobbing.

" I just...I just need to know my past...I need to know who I am...Can't you understand that...?"

For a long time he didn't respond. For a long time he pondered walking away, and being the person he once was.

But at the same time he wondered what would happen if he stayed. It was obvious that she was attached to pothead potter and the weasel, but at the same time she had been horribly betrayed by them. She was still being horribly betrayed by them, and if there was one thing he understood, it was treachery. His eyes closed in pain.

He had been a betrayer once, and he had been betrayed as well.

And it was that thought that made him kneel down on the pavement beside her, and that thought that caused him to willingly touch her, a mudblood, so that he could lift her chin.

Without a word he pulled a dark curl off her forehead, even as a door creaked in the background.

"Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Manor, anytime tommorow. I hardly ever leave."

"Hermione!"

They both turned at the shout, and saw Harry running towards them. A sharp cracking sound made her turn her head back towards him, but when she looked, he was gone.

oooooooooo

So I know it's not that great, but this actually does have a plotline. Or at least I think it does. I know I have a concept in my head of a post-war amnesiatic Hermione and a reclusive dark-past and very depressed Draco in my head, coupled with lots of drama and angst going on, but I MUST WRITE IT.

I love Hermione and Draco as a couple, and any love story is good in my mind. .

Anyways...read and review and tell me if this first chapter is good enough to continue or not. Although I am already done with half the second chapter...


	2. Floo me to my memories

Draco paced in agitation the moment he arrived home.

Why did he do that?

What on earth had possessed him?

He had invited a former enemy into his home. He was actually having emotions other than hate and jealousy towards her. He felt sorry for her, and he felt empathy. He had thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in that alleyway before recognizing her, and now he was feeling a mixture of trepidation and anxiousness towards her visit tomorrow.

He _wanted _to see her.

He wanted to _hold_ her.

And he wanted to give pothead potter and the weasel a good slug or tow for lying to their _best bloody friend_ _for four bloody years!_

How could anyone humanly keep someone they supposedly love in the dark for so long? How could they keep her own name from her without feeling a twinge of remorse?

This was the one reason Draco was grateful he had no friends. Pansy has only wanted him for his money, and to be honest, he hadnn't minded the easy fuck the little whore gave. She was just as treacherous as Blaise though, and he regreatted even knowing her for the time he had. Blaise...Blaise had revealed to Voldemort that Draco had turned spy, right before the end of the war. He had spent those last two months in hiding, unwilling to do even the smallest spell for fear that Voldemort would track him down. He still wasn't sure how Blaise had ever found out, and truth be told, he didn't care.

Grabbe and Goyle had died in battle, prefering to remain loyal to Voldemort and help try to kill him when he was revealed as a traitor. Blaise was now in Azkaban, a hollow shell of the man he had been thanks to the dementors kiss, Snape was there, Pansy was there, in fact nearly every childhood friend, or long-known family friend was in there. His father was dead now, his mother in Azkaban.

But he didn't mind the loneliness. It was better than constantly watching your back for fear of having someone avada you for breathing wrong. It was better than being tortured for giving a sympathetic face to a muggle family they were currently torturing, it was better than his entire life even. Hie heart still ached from misery, but it wasn't as strong.

He was lonely, but he was happy.

And maybe Granger was lonely too. Maybe she was tired of being betrayed as well.

Maybe she wouldn't hate him.

For all his faults, Draco Malfoy was a good person. At least he thought so. He had donated nearly half his fortune to the PWRS, or Post War Ressurection Society. They had rebuilt houses, donated to families so they could bury their lost loved ones, and slowly begun to change a few of the wronger laws for the wizarding world.

Right now, if you were in school and above the age of sixteen, you could perform simple spells at home for your convienence. Right now, lands that Centuars lived on were banned from being industrialized in any manner, and building homes or any sort of building was forbidden. Firenze had loved that. Half-giants could go to wizarding schools if they possessed magical powers, as could anything that was a half-blood. Life had become better, more peaceful, and he had helped in his own way.

His fortune would still last at least five generations easily, if not more.

Draco looked up at the grandfather clock as it chimed only once. He had been in the library for the past three hours, stuck in thoughts about Granger, his past and the magical world in general. Suddenly he was aware that he was actually tired. Bone weary as a matter of fact.

He went up to his room and sat down on his bed after removing his robes, shoes, shirt, pants and belt. He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands, now mid-back length white-blond hair falling around his face.

What on earth had possessed him?

oooooooooo (Did anyone else pronounce PWRS as "powers", because I did...and then I thought of Austin Powers...)

Hermione tried to appear calm the next day. She hadn't said a word of truth to Harry about who it was she had been talking to, opting instead to say that she had tripped and he was helping her up. When he asked why he had been kneeling she laughed it off and said that he had dropped his umbrella in shock when she fell down.

He had twisted his mouth in a manner that said he didn't believe a word of it, but didn't press further.

The rest of the night had spent at the Weasleys, listening to Molly rant about Fred an George because they had designed a type of candy that made you literally sprout wings for about ten minutes. Apparently Ginny had tried one and had fallen ten feet after her wings abruptly dissapeared.

Hermione's first though had been, to her shame "_Serves her right, the lying little bitch_..." After that she went to her room and collapsed from exhaustion. Her little break-down in the alleyway had made her tired, even though her mind was whirring with the facts that had been revealed to her.

Her full name for one.

That there was a person out there who wasn't connected to Harry or Ron in a friendly manner who knew her, for another.

And so the morning she woke up the suspense and anxiousness from needing to see him that day had caused her to drop her milk at breakfast, accidentally put her shirt on inside out and backwards, nearly trip down the stairs and a number of other mishaps. All of which happened the moment she thought of him and how she was finally going to know who she really was.

Fuck St, Mungo's. Hermione Jane Granger refused their orders to keep her in the dark! And Draco Malfoy of Malfoy Manor was going to be her light!

For the first time in four years, she was relieved.

After lunch everyone began taking their leave, and Hermione decided she would too. But she wasn't going to apparate. In her mind, anyone who had a home with their last name having the word "Manor" would logically have defenses against apparating on the ground. Manor was such a snobbish word after all, and most snobs tended to hate visitors.

So she flooed. It took her nearly an hour to get the fireplace to herself, and she stepped in with enough time to say "Malfoy Manor" right before Molly stepped back into the room.

Thankfully she didn't hear Hermione's words.

oooooooooo

He was pacing again. An irritating but useful habit that bespoke of how much he wanted to see her.

He had been in front of the fireplace for nearly three hours now, just pacing. Lunch had been an assortment of small sandwiches the house elves had made him for fear he would starve himself again. Yes, again. But it only happened for maybe one or two days at a time, and it was only when he was too depressed and lost in the past to think straight, let alone take care of himself.

So they needn't worry. After all, Tipsy had been there when he dresses, picking up outfit after outfit and putting it away after he flung it to the ground with muttered words that fell alnong the lines of "No...not good enough...too pompous...don't want to look like I'm trying...maybe this...no..no...She never liked that color..." as well as numerous other things until he finally decided on a pair of black hessian boots, black slacks tucked into said boots, a dark gray dress shirt, black tie, and black robes with lime green lining.

He looked very victorian, if he said so himself. And Granger had always liked victorian era men's clothing.

So he tied his hair back towards the nape of his neck in the manner of nearl 150 years ago, and made sure not a hair was out of place, that he had shaved, brushed, not gotten dust on him, etc...

To say he was nervous was an understatement.

So when the fireplace popped and she stepped out, looking for all the world as if she had merely pulled on whatever she say first, he felt a bit embarrassed at his enthusiasm.

He didn't know she had changed five times after her realization that her shirt was on wrong, and that it was too casual. After all, who wears a t-shirt with Mickey Mouse on it to rediscover their past?

She looked up and their eyes caught and held each others for a long moment. She suddenly remembered her surroundings when the door opened with a house elf holding a plate of mini-sandwiches and caused her to look over. The elf froze in his tracks and looked first at her, then at his master, then at her, then finally to his master.

"Is Master Malfoy wanting Tipsy to bring the master and his misses some drinks sir?" He squeeked out, running into the room to set the new plate on the coffee table and to take the old plate away. He looked up inquiringly. Draco looked at Hermione, whose eyes had gotten wide and was staring at the house elf as though amazed. He coughed and she visibly shook herself out of her daze.

"Oh um...butterbeer or tea...I think I had enough alcohol last night to last me the month." She said, her voice sounding very far away.

Draco nodded at Tipsy, who scurried out of the room. Hermione spoke again.

"You want to know something funny? I've always wanted to start a little society dedicated to freeing house elves and giving them rights. Ron and Harry have always told me that with all the new changes in the wizarding world, it was only a matter of time before the a law was passed freeing them." She looked back up at them.

"I always imagined a name like the Society for..."

"..the Promotion of Elven Welfare?"

"...Yes. How did you?"

"You've already done it."

He waved a hand indicating her to sit where she pleased. He did so after her, choosing to face her from the chair on the other side of the fireplace. Flames flickered over her confused features as Tipsy came back in with the drinks. Draco whispered something Hermione didn't catch to the elf, and he dashed off again, only to return with a little round object. Draco handed it to her.

She looked it over, turning it im her hands with an expression of amazed sorrow on her face. It was a badge with the name of her society on the front, as well as the words " The House Elf Liberation Front" at the bottom. She looked back up at him.

"I believe the Weasel is the one who came up with the other name. After all, your original name had an acronym spelled S-P-E-W, or as it would be pronounced, spew." She gave a harsh laugh.

"Did it fail?" She asked, looking anxious. He shook his head no, and she sighed, relaxing a little more in her chair.

"It was abandoned with the War."

oooooooooo

So...the next chapter will be more in depth, with Draco pretty much telling Hermione of her past, but from his point of view.

For all of those of you wondering why he's being so OOC, keep in mind this is four years later. They're both twenty-two at this point, and Draco is pretty much weary of life. He has lost all resentment he felt towards muggles and muggleborns, as well as pretty much any real will to live. His life was horrid, and now...he's just weary of living. He merely exists because he's the last Malfoy left who isn't dead or in Azkaban. The only left at this point is to produce an heir, leave a will, and die.

Which is a feeling I identify with. I think I understand him more than I do Hermione...

But yeah...read and review! Please!

Thanks to: **votehermione,** **csmith20**, **Gwinna**, and **Allie**, who left such lovely reviews for the first chapter! Thanks bunches!


	3. Candid Conversations

"It was abandoned with the War."

Hermione blinked. So...it hadn't failed...but it didn't really exist anymore? And the war... She knew from vaque descriptions that some man named Voldemort tried to take over the wizarding world and Harry had killed him, but there were no details other than that. In truth, it sounded more like a theory for a book than a true life story. But she had seen the aftermath. She remembered waking up only to have to visit a series of funerals and ceremonies held in honor of the dead. She knew that laws were being changed.

The past four years were not a mystery to her. They were a series of precious memories and nightmares.

She looked at Draco.

"Start at the beginning."

A sigh fell from his lips, and his voice came out as a dream, a faraway look in his eyes.

"When you and I first met, we were enemies. But not because of you alone. It was who you were with."

"Who?"

"Harry Potter, the boy who lived and his blood traitor friend, Ronald Weasley. Although at the time you were merely friendly aquaintences. I tried to make my friends, in my usual manner of insulting those around him, then holding out a hand to shake. You were near him at that time. We were eleven. It was our first year at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?"

He gave her a funny look. Did she seriously not remember the name of the school they had gone to? Did those bastards actually keep it from her? He cursed silently in his head, although his expression never changed.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am a pureblood Granger, you were a muggle born. That is, my parents possessed magical powers whereas yours did not. If I remember correctly they're both dentists, by the names of Alex and Janet Granger. You were born to them sometime in late september."

Hermione gave him a funny look. For someone who was her supposed enemy he seemed to know a lot about her.

"Our contact was limited. Me verbally abusing you in the halls, you threatening to hex me everytime I called you a mudblood, my father cursing at me averytime you beat me in a subject...lots of things, but limited. In class we ignored each unless we were about half a rows distance from each other. Then we tried to make each others life hell. I actually enjoyed irritating you Granger."

"Call me Hermione. As much as I like knowing what my last name is, I do think that under the circumstances we could be on a first name basis." She cut in, a small smile on her lips. Draco nodded.

"As you wish. Call me Draco as well. I hate being known by my last name all the time."

She gave a light chuckle.

"Anyways...in third year you punched me, straight in the nose. It was the whole mudblood comment again. After that, because I know you're curious, I took an interest in finding everything about you that I could. I know you were homeschooled until Hogwarts, I know that you got a toothbrush and paste every year for christmas from your parents, as well as some muggle books, I know that need to know everything, and end up reading for hours if you find something too fascinating to put down, and that you did your homework and then let pothead potter and the weasel copy off of you. More than that even.

"I did it because I was looking for ammunition to harm you more, but I never really used it. You were too normal, except for your bookish ways and the muggle heritage. So I gave up.

" Fourht year was the triwizard tournament. That year you started dating Viktor Krum, the bulgerian seeker of the Chudley Cannons, and blackmailed Rita Skeeter. A fact that you and your friends were supposed to be the only ones to know, but I have ways of finding out things. Oh, and you somehow managed to straighten your hair for the yule ball, as well as find a dress that was decent. I didn't recognize you at first. To be honest, until I did recognize you, I was going to ask you out. Then I was repulsed by the very thought the moment your name popped up in my mind."

She gave him a funny look. Was that a compliment or an insult? He called her pretty then denounced it based on her heritage. Her eyebrows rose and she looked at him inquiringly. He glared at her for a second, then returned to his story.

"After that, in fifth year, Voldemort, aka Tom Marvolo Riddle returned. So I was forced to become a death eater, work for Voldemort, and begin my career in servitude to a man I had been raised to be in awe of, but learned to hate because he wasn't exactly the smartest, or most humane guy around. He wasn't even a pureblood, and yet he said all muggles and muggleborns were useless. So I guess he was basically proclaiming himself to be trash. But it was in sixth year that I left Hogwarts, helped kill Dumbledore, the headmaster at the time, and...well... that part of life is secret. You left Hogwarts as well, to help Potty and Weasel and the Order of the Pheonix, to hunt down Voldemort. The rest of your life is unknown to me until the final battle.

"...There...I believe that it's there that you lost your memories. You were aiming a hex at one of the Death eaters, _stupify _I believe, when he shouted _expelliarmus, _and the spell was sent back to you, slamming into you and forcing you to the ground. From what I know you cut yourself on your head somewhere, and didn't wake up until two days later. I know this because while you were busy fighting, I had run off after doing...things...and had taken a knife to my arm to skin the dark mark off of me.

"While I was busy ripping off the last of the flesh where the mark was, I looked up and saw you aim that spell. I fainted from the bloodloss shortly after you fell."

He looked up from the half empty butterbeer he had taken to staring at and gave a rueful smile.

"Someone healed my arm for me, and left a small scar. When I was tried as a death eater they pulled up my arm and saw nothing."

"I was there." She said softly. looking up. "Harry and Ron dragged me to all the trials, and I did see you then. But your hair was shorter, dirtier, and your robes were mussed from the cell."

"Indeed."

He looked up at the clock, then quickly downed the rest of his butterbeer. She looked as well, and gasped when she saw the time. It was nearly six! Ron would be at her apartment any minute to take her to the Weasley home for dinner with tha family. it was tradition that they do so every saturday! She looked at Draco, her eyes panicked.

"I have to go. I don't want them to worry about..."

"Go then. But do me one favor?"

She nodded.

"Return sometime. I'm bored here. There's nothing to do but spend money I don't want to spend, or read books I've read before."

She nodded again, then grabbed a handful of floo powder from the desk next to the fire. She stepped in and gave him a fond wave goodbye. He gave a small bow.

"Fourteen fifteen West Summit lane, apartment 2!"

And then she was gone.

oooooooooo

When she arrived there was someone sitting on her couch. One glace at the bright red hair alerted that it was Ron, and one pop from the fireplace with her arrival alerted him that she was home. He looked over, a frown on his still boyishly handsome features.

"Where have you been?" He asked, standing and coming over to her. She placed her purse on the counter and walked over to the bathroom to grab her brush.

"Library." She answered. He walked in behind her and leaned against the wall, his tall frame still towering over hers.

"The library is a block away, and it is a muggle building devoid of a fireplace. I doubt you could have flooed from there. And if you did go, why don't you have any books with you?"

"So it's an interrogation now is it? Fine. I'll be honest. I wasn't home."

"Obviously."

"But my business is my own, and you have no need to know where I was." She said calmly, deciding that for once, she wasn't going to answer to him or Harry all the time. Her movements didn't need to be monitered, and Ron and Harry didn't need to protect her.

Before she could listen to anymore questions as to her whereabouts she finished putting her hair in a bun and walked over to her fireplace. She grabbed another handful of floo powder and stepped in. His stunned and slightly angry face dissapeared as the green flames overwhelmed her.

oooooooooo

The moment she dissapeared Draco flung his empty glass against the wall.

Damn it all! Bloody damn it all ti the ninth hell and beyond! Why was he actually inviting her here? More than once! He had told her as much as he was willing to, and that was all she needed to know. He held no obligation to her, no honorable need to let her out of the dark. His excuse was poorhearted in inane.

Bored here?

No. He was bored here, but he didn't need the company of that...of that...

His shoulders slumped.

Mudblood.

And yet it didn't seem to matter. She was company that he got along with, and at least she had intelligence. Unlike most of the other people he knew. Or used to know. But maybe that was his problem. He should be in azkaban for his crimes, along with the other pureblooded bastards who thought their names were worth more than a persons life. He hadn't thought that way in a ling time now, but it had been true at one point. It had been true for the greater part of his life, or so he had been led to believe by his father.

He sneered.

His father deserved what he got and worse, and his mother had been no better. In fact every Black/Malfoy on the planet, other than Nymphadora Lupin and the now departed Sirius had been a bunch of self-serving, sneering, cruel, and utterly worthless bastards. They were foul.

He sat down again and leaned his head back until he was staring at the celing.

Gray.

Such a good color. It was the color that defined life. There was no black and white, only shades of gray. There was the grayness of his misery, the utter apathy that encompassed his life. The gray of war, that moment after the blood has been spilled and it was all over, when every moment was less reality and more of a bitter dream.

His eyes closed against all the grayness and he gave a sigh.

For the third time that week, Draco Malfoy, last of the Malfoy line, contemplated suicide.

oooooooooo

Yay! Another chapter! One with a lot of conversation, which was really odd to write but seeing as he had some explaining to do, yeah... Draco officially talks a lot. :nods:

Anyways, you know the drill, read and review!

Thanks to **Gwinna, Allie, **and** Csmith20. **Thank you so much, you're reviews really helped me!


	4. Glances into the past

Hermione didn't go see him as quickly as she thought she would, and the idea bothered her. She wasn't sure why she was thinking about him so much, other than their little chat about the things Harry and Ron had never told her and how it made her hate them a little, but other than that there wasn't a real reason. If she was honest with herself it had nothing to do with his good looks, but something else.

Maybe it was the expression in her eyes when he asked her to come again sometime. He had seemed almost desperate, although his face didn't reveal anything. He had mentioned how she had punched him in third year, meaning that they were the same age, but something about him was so much older than her, or anyone else she knew for that matter. If she hadn't figured it out then she would have easily assumed that he was twenty-six, or twenty-seven.

But what on earth would happen to a person that made them look older than they were? Certain experiances in life were harsher than others, but if she wasn't mistaken he probably hadn't a drop of happiness in his life. He looked so...so tired of...everything. It nearly broke her heart just to sit there and listen to him talk about her past in his low drawl, laced with bitterness.

Maybe that was the cause of her obsession with him. Maybe she wanted to find out what had happened to make Draco Malfoy look miserable.

She shoved another pair of jeans into the washing machine with a huff, then closed it and turned it on.

Not that she might have the chance to see him soon. She was working double at the library thanks to the new girl quitting, and finding a person to replace her eas tough. Not many people wanted to work in a library. Coupled with the fact that Ron was hounding her like crazy over her whereabouts that day. She could almost swear he was jealous of Draco, but the idea was ridiculous seeing as he had never known that she had been with Draco.

A quick glance at the clock told her it was nearly midnight. She had to be at work by six thirty, and she still had yet to shower or make a quick dinner. As well as waiting for the last load of clothes to wash so that she could stick them in the dryer for when she woke up in the morning. In all probability she wouldn't be in bed until two, if she could fall asleep that was. For some reason she had been feeling restless lately.

She whirled around and marched over to the bathroom.

oooooooooo

Draco Malfoy was ridiculously bored. For the past three hours he had been lying on the floor in his study, staring up blankly at the gray ceiling, and desperately trying to summon up the urge to do _something_. But alas, dull thing that life was, he still hadn't managed to think about anything besides the current state of the world, how much he really wished he had made an heir before the war so he could die in relative peace, and Hermione. Who hadn't shown up in four bloody days.

He rolled over on his stomach to stare at the carpet. He was bored. Truly, utterly, and undeniably bored. And the worse part of it was that the only things that could relieve his boredom were closed off to him. He couldn't work at the Ministry thanks to his connection with the dark lord. In fact anyone still roaming out there with a connection to Voldemort was banned from Ministry work for the next ten years. Quidditch was something that he still held an interest in, but unlike Weasley he had never wanted to become proffesional. It was a sport done for fun with friends. If he had had ay more friends that is.

And the Daily Prophet...well...If there was one thing Draco couldn't stand it was reporters, and working around a bunch of them, let alone being one was such a hporrifying idea that he literally got disgusted goosebumps.

After that there was nothing.

And it wasn't like he needed to work. He had enough money already. It was just being able to be normal for a bit. The very idea of normality taunted him like some beguiling siren. He would have something to do with himself if he worked, something to occupy his thoughts. And unfortunately he would have to see people everyday, watch them laugh and hug and cry and run about all happily... He actually felt a bitter envy towards those couples he saw out on the street. They always looked so innocent, so happy...so normal. He was the one out of place. He was the oddity. The black spot on a white wall...

Draco Malfoy, reclusive freak extraordinaire.

He laughed aloud at that title.

Draco Malfoy, wealthy, handsome, utterly miserable bachelor with no idea what to do with his life other than wait for nothing to happen.

By Merlin he was pathetic.

The fireplace popped and he jumped in shock, quickly rolling over and sitting up to watch whoever it was make thier jolly way into his home. A woman stepped out wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms with cocktail glasses all over them. Her hair clung in wet curls to her neck, the rest of it warring with itself as to whether or not it should lat flat, wave, or curl up in the beginnings of a frizzy mess. He breathed a sigh of relief he hadn't known he was holding.

"Hello Hermione."

oooooooooo

"Have any of you noticed a change in Hermione?" Ron said to no one in particular. He was currently walking in a park with Harry and Ginny, as well as a very drunk Neville Longbottom. They were all drunk actually, except for Ginny. Her pregnancy forbade any consumption of alcoholic beverages.

"Whaddya mean Ron?" Harry slurred out, his green eyes taking a second to focus on him.

"Avoiding us, never telling us when she's home, short answers, dissapointed looks, tense behavoir...There's a number of things."

"She's on her monthly."

Ron snorted.

"And you know that how...?"

"You just described a pms-ing woman."

Ginny slapped him on the arm and he gave an innocent look.

"It's true!"

"Yeah...maybe..." Ron said, staring off into the distance. Neville began singing a bawdy sounding sea ditty while taking off his shoes, obviously having decided to go swimming in the pond. Harry immediately joined in, his voice sounding, remarkably enough, terrible mixed in with Neville's actual ability to hit notes. Ron shook his head at them and held back laughter.

The water was only two feet deep.

oooooooooo

"Hey Draco..." Hermione said, standing there and shifting from foot to foot. One blond eyebrow rose as he watched her, wondering what this was about.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." She blurted out suddenly, and he gave a small smile.

"I don't mind."

"Okay."

She shifted from foot to foot for a while longer before abruptly walking toward him a plopping down. Her hands clenched and unclenced numerous times before she finally looked at him.

"I just got out of the shower." She said. His other eyebrow quickly joined the other.

"I can see that."

"Yeah...I guess..." She twirled a piece of curly hair in a finger. "Um...Did Hogwarts have a lake?"

"...Yes..."

"Was there a squid in it?"

"Yes..."

"Okay..."

He held back laughter at her nervous behavior. But at the same time he was intrigued. Who had told her about the giant sguid?

"I accidentaly dropped my shampoo bottle and stepped on it and all the shampoo came out all squishy and I stepped in it and then suddenly I saw this tentacle in my mind waving at the window I was standing in only I was in in my shower and there are no windows there and the tentacle was coming from this lake that had this moving tree by it and I looked down and I was in a castle and I got scared because I don't like heights because Harry dragged me on his broom once and went really high and I thought he was going to drop me."

The laughter spilled out and she glared at him.

"Mind your grammer bookworm, or else those run-on sentences may confuse people." He said in between bursts of laughter. "And was that a memory you had? Or was it two? How do go from giant squid to flying anyways?" She opened her mouth, obviously intending to repeat her earlier sentence. A pale hand quickly clamped over it. "No, don't answer, I heard you the first time."

His hand moved away.

"It was one memory...I think." She said slowly.

"Congratulations then."

Silence fell around them. She stood up and brushed any imaginary dust that may have clung ot her backside off, then turned around.

"I would stay but I have to get ready for bed." She said soflty. "And I wanted to tell you what happened becuase I knew you would tell me the truth about it."

Before he could reply she bent down and kissed his forehead.

"Thank you."

And then she was gone. Draco smiled into the flames.

"You're welcome."

oooooooooo

Yay! Hermione remembered something! Sorry for the long wait between updates. But yeah... You know the drill. Read and review!

Thanks to: **Csmith20, Allie, Phunkit, ARtemIS07, **and **icyhotsista1422**! Especially Phunkit! You're review was really inspiring!


	5. Living Room Disasters

Two days later it was a shocked Hermione that recieved Draco in her home. In a rare burst of love for living and the need to get out of his home for a while he flooed to her small apartment at around two in the afternoon on a saturday. Unfortunately he did so while Ron was sitting comfortably on her sofa and she was in the kitchen making a snack for herself. His presence was alerted by a loud yell of "Malfoy" coming from the general area of her living room. Without bothering to put the turkey back in her refirgerator she ran out of th kitchen only to see Ron and Draco holding wands an inch away from each others throats and glaring at each other as though wishing the other would dissapear or turn into mashed people bits.

"Ron! Draco! What's the meaning of this!" She yelled at the both of them. Their heads swiveled, long white-blond hair whipping around at the same time shaggy read hair flipped up into the air and settled around red ears.

"What do you mean by calling him Draco!" Ron spat out the same moment a very irritated and strangely calm Draco said "Hermione, be a dear and hex this barbarian away from me. Here's the ammunition for the hex: he attacked me first."

Ron sputtered in angry incoherency for a few seconds before managing a full sentence.

"Dear? What does he mean by dear! And he's using your first name! And he knows where you live!"

Realization dawned on his face and for a brief moment Hermione was relieved that he had figured it out. Unfortunately when he spoke again his voice was an angry hiss that belied a thought process that led to the wrong conclusion.

"You two are... You and him are... With your worse enemy! He tortured you for years in school and yet you..you let him...?" His face seemed melted into an understanding expression. "But of course, you don't remember him darling...of course you wouldn't hate him on sight..." He whirled around and glared at Malfoy, his expression furious. "You cad! You knew about her didn't you! You knew she had lost her mind so you decided to shamelessly..."

Draco and Hermione broke in with the same sentence.

"She did not lose her mind!" He fairly roared. "Only her memories!"

"I did not lose my mind!" She ground out bitterly. "Only my memories!"

Ron shut up for a few seconds, shaking a little over the fact that a few sparks were shooting out of Draco's wand, uncontrolled and unnoticed in his anger.

"Now if you don't mind, _Weasel, _I was planning on asking Hermione to go to a park and maybe to dinner with me later on. So if you would...?" Draco waved a pale and elegant hand in the direction of the fireplace. Ron open and shut his mouth soundlessly for a few seconds before abruptly shaking his head to clear his muddled thoughts. He glared at them both before quicky apparating with a harsh cracking sound echoing behind him.

Hermione stood in stunned silence for a few seconds before she felt warm hands cover hers. She looked down and unclenched them, unaware that she had even done so in the first place. Almost immediately he tunrned them over and began rubing soothingly at the small crescent shaped marks her nails had left.

Her eyes welled up with tears that quickly spilled over her eyelashes and down her cheeks. He looked up at her sniffle and she tried to give him a smile, but it came out bitter and lonely looking, a fleeting thing. Before she could try to explain her tears away he pulled her into his arms and started cradling her back and forth. Before she could stop it a sob escaped her, and then another, and another. Her arms went up around his shoulders and she buried her face in the curve of his neck.

As she cried she was vaguely aware of him whispering comforting little nothings in her ear. And then he was kissing her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her chin, and there was only the slightest hesitation before he kissed her mouth. It started out as a chaste peck, but then there was another, and another, each becoming longer until finally her mouth opened and his tongue went inside to taste her. Little shivers of excitement raced up and down her spine and she wasn't aware that her tears had stopped. That her arms had wound themselvces up around his shoulders and that she was kissing him back.

Something hard hit against her back and his hands ame down to scoop her hips up to cradle against his. Her legs wrapped obligingly against his waist as she ran her hands down his arms, to his sides, up his back and everywhere she could reach. One of his hands came up to gently squeeze her left breast and she arched against him invitingly.

Neither heard the popping sound of an obvious apparation. Neither heard the first discreet cough, or the second louder one. Finally the person who had just arrived had enough of the scene before her and gave up with polite coughs.

"HERMIONE JANE GRANGER YOU WILL GET OFF THAT WALL MALFOY HAS YOU PRESSED AGAINST AND AKNOWLEDGE ME!" A thouroughly irritated Ginerva Weasley yelled at her, instantly breaking up the couple. Within a few seconds Draco was across the room trying to make his mussed robes into some semblance of order as Hermione did the same with her clothes. Several more popping sounds followed and Harry Potter entered into the room along with Ronald Weasley and Fred and George.

Remarkably enough no one had their wands pointed at Draco, but that was probaby because no one other than Ginny had seen him standing in the corner yet. Hermione's face was red from both passion and embarrassment, and Ron looked over her in disgust.

"Didn't take you two long now did it? The moment I left more like. Is that rotten bastard still here or..." He looked about the room at the same time that Fred noticed that Harry was now pointing his wand at Draco. He seemed to have noticed him first. Immediately three more wands joined in the pointing and a fully exasperated Draco whipped his out too.

"Now see here, four against one? Not a very fair fight now is it? But then again I shouldn't expect less from a group of cowardly weasels and and the boy-who-lived-to-be-an-ass." He said smoothly, casually aiming his wand at Ronald, seeing as he was more likely to get physical than the rest.

Ginny walked into the kitchen and immediately stol the sandwich Hermione had been making. She munched on it as she walked out and sat on Hermione's couch, motioning for Hermione to join her.

"Oh? Harry dear, I said 'Mione's full name on accident. They were too busy to notice my arrival and..." She said cheerfully, completely unaware that her nonchalant attitude was entirely innapropriate for the current state that the other six occupants of the room were in.

"Please stop right there before I become ill." He said quickly, not moving his green eyes off of the calm figure of Malfoy.

"Oh...Okay. I just thought you should know that Hermione knows her full name now."

"She knows a hell of a lot more than that." Draco said coldly, his shoulders tensing slightly at the thought that these people invading the time he could have spent taking Hermione's clothing had lied to her about her own name...and everything else.

"What do you mean Malfoy." Harry spat out in contempt, his angry gaze now wary and distrustful, and just a little...afraid. Draco gave a bitter laugh.

"Don't you know Potter? I told her. Everything. Well...not everything but as much as I was willing. She knows very well that she and I used to be enemies, and that I used to hate all of you. She also knows about Hogwarts, Dumbledore, the War, and other things."

His gaze, along with several others slid over to Hermione, who was sitting tensely next to Ginny. Ginny had taken that time to prop her legs on the coffee table and rub at her belly while finishing up Hermione's sandwich for her. She couldn't find the remote.

Hermione's eyes met and held Draco's for a second before sliding over to look at Harry and Ron. They fell almost immediately.

"Malfoy...you...you..." Ron began.

"...Saw a girl sobbing in an alleyway and took pity on her. But lo! What is this! Why, it was my school enemies best friend, feeling betrayed and helpless over her own ignorance about her past. Ignorance that her self-proclaimed best friends wouldn't even help her get over. They kept secrets from her. But why? What are you so afraid of?"

Harry's jaw clenched and he closed his eyes as if in pain. Ron turned as red as his hair, and Fred and George were too busy looking from one person to the other to be of any real danger. Draco smirked, a full one like the ones he used to do in school, and another laugh fell from his lips.

"Things change Potter. People change. Hermione isn't a silly eighteen year old girl fighting a war she was never meant to anymore. Take a look at her. She's a grown woman. A woman who's own past was kept a secret from her for four full years by loved ones. How does it make you feel to know that right now, she probably has more love in her heart for me than..."

"STOP!"

Hermione's voice came out sharp and tense, her worried eyes rising to meet his.

"Just stop Draco...they know now, isn't that enough?" She stood and ran over to him, white hands latching onto the front of his robes as her face buried itself in his chest.

Draco gave one last angry glare at the group.

"This isn't the end. Sooner or later you're going to have to face your own guilt."

One arm came to wrap around Hermione's waist. He raised his wand at a forty-five degree angle.

"By the way, she's beginning to remember things."

A loud crack filled the air and both Draco and Hermione dissapeared, leaving a rather stunned group of Weasley's and The-Boy-Who-Lived behind in her apartment.

oooooooooo

So what do you think of this chappie? I'm gonna start making the story more...drama-esque? from this point on.

Read and Review please:D

Thanks to: **externaltwin, Carly, Allie, Gwinna,** and** Daughter.of.Loneliness** for the reviews on the last chapter! I really appreciate it!


	6. Opening A Mental Door

Fred and George put down their wands the moment Draco apparated with Hermione and stared at each other in shock.

"Blimey..." Both said at the same time. Harry looked over at them both, his body still tense with anger but his eyes looking dull from the overload of emotional shock. His wand fell as well. Ginny calmly went into the kitchen and put her plate away, still calmer and less shocked than the rest.

As for Ron, he was still glaring at the spot that Draco and Hermione had been, wand still pointed as though they would appear back at any moment. His face was red, nearly purple in rage and his body trembled with anger as his mouth filled with the bitter tang of jealousy. Ginny reappeared in the room and resumed her position on the couch.

"That went rather well, didn't it?" She said cheerfully.

They all turned slowly to look at her in stunned silence.

oooooooooo

Draco lifted Hermione in his arms bridal style the moment they arrived in the study of his manor. Without any protest he immediately left the room and carried up the three flights of stairs it took to get to his room. She sobbed all the while. As gently as he could he layed her down on his bed, muttering soft words of encouragement to get her to release the tight grip she had on his shoulders. the moment she did she rolled over on her side and curled up into a little ball.

He watched her for a few seconds before heaving a sigh. This day had not gone as planned at all. and judging by the extent of her grief over it, the next few hours were destined to against plan as well. His desperate need for human companionship had let to disaster. And yet Draco marveled at the fact that he still craved it. That he still craved another person to laugh with, hold hands with,and yes, kiss. And he admitted to himself that Hermione could easily be that person. e hadn't meant to kiss her earlier, but she was crying and he was frustrated and suddenly the only thing he could focus on was trying to make her feel better. He had meant to kiss away her tears. He had not meant for their lis to touch, or for that bolt of electricity he had felt moving through his veins to happen.

He hadn't expected to want, no, _need _her.

And that was a problem. Before she had seemed as though she would make a good friend, one who wouldn't turn around and stab him in the back. Now suddenly she was more than that.

If the word love was in his vocabulary, he could have sworn that he was falling in it.

And he didn't particularly care to try and stop his descent.

A small smile quirked the corner of his lips and he left the room. Tipsy gave him a small bow on the stairs and he nodded back, making his way into the library to scan the shelves for the one book guarenteed to put her in a better mood. Once he found it his mouth grew into a large grin. Quickly he flipped through it and took out an old letter, one addressed to him from his now deceased mother. Carefully he placed it another book, commiting the title to memory, and went upstairs.

She was still curled up into a ball, but she was no longer sobbing. Every once in a while another tear trickled out of the corner of her eyes and she would shiver, as though cold.

He placed the book next to the bed and removed his robes and shoes, being sure to leave on the rest of his clothing. Gently he scooted her over so that there was a little more room on the bed and layed down, turning to wrap himself around her back and pull her into his arms.

He closed his eyes, suddenly tired from the emotional shocks of the day.

oooooooooo

_Images flashed in front of her eyes, bringing unknown feelings with them. A younger Harry chased after a blond boy on a broomstick, trying to get a small round object from him. Hermione knew it was a remembrall, but she wasn't sure how the knowledge came across her. _

_Images changed. Suddenly she was in a dark room full of cauldrons, a tall man with shoulder length black hair and a slightly hooked nose writing directions on the board. Then there was Harry being chased around by a dragon, Neville getting his foot stuck in the trick stair, an enchanted ceiling with snow falling down from it, a serious looking young man in robes that had the Durmstrang crest on it asking her to the Yule Ball, and various other events from her school life that involved loved ones. _

_And then she saw Malfoy, looking young and innocent, but so world weary at the time, sneering at her, calling her a mudblood while two large shapeless objects she was at loathe to call boys snickered next to him. She punched him in the nose._

Hermione woke up with a gasp, right before sixth year would have begun.

That...that...son of a bitch! How dare he pretend to be her friend when in the past he had, he had...

A groan sounded beside her and she looked down, only to see the very same face of the exact son of a bitch she had just finished giving a good whap in her dreams. Without any thought as to her actions she shoved him off of the bed.

"Wha..." He said groggily and obviously disoriented.

"You bastard!" She screeched at him. He immediately stood up and moved toward her, obviously intending to try and placate her. She scooted back, unconsciously getting tangled in the black blankets that his bed was composed of.

"You rotten, dirty, selfish prat!"

"Woah, hold on a second here! What did I do wrong!" He said, panicking a little over the thought that he may have accidentaly groped her in her sleep or something. He hadn't meant to if he had.

"How dare you pretend innocence! All those years being such an ass to me, calling me a mudblood, insulting my hair, my intelligence, everything! How the hell are you better than me Malfoy! Huh! At least my parents weren't death eaters, at least I was never a death eater! And I made top marks, you were always second to me!"

Draco's mind cleared and a metaphorical rainbow filled it. If he were any other person he would be dancing. Instead he grinned like a madman and proceeded to hop on the bed and tackle her, hugging her close. She kicked and screamed in protest, and threatened a number of horrible hexes upon hi, if he didn't let her go, but it all fell on deaf ears.

"You remember! You remember!" He said happily into her hair, sounding for all the world like a little boy who had just gotten a corvette for christmas. Or the latest broom model, as it were, seeing as Draco was never really that connected to the muggle world.

Hermione tensed up, deciding it would be easier to get rid of the rotten bastard if she stayed still and silent. He pulled back and gripped her shoulders.

"How much do you recall? Do you remember the war?"

"I remember Sirius dying thanks to your rotten father and that bastard Voldemort."

"And beyond that?"

His shoulders slumped.

"...Beyond that, Hermione?"

"Umm..."

"Damn it all!"

He moved off of her and started pacing. She glared at him coldly, wishing he would either turn into ice so she could smash him into pieces with a mallet, or that he would spontaneously combust into electric blue flames. Neither happened for some odd reason...

"I hate you." She said suddenly, and randomly. He stopped and looked over at her, eyebrows raising in shock.

"Well, it's obvious you remember me."

The pacing resumed. She watched him cross from one corner of the room to the other, her rage slowly dissapating. It was obvious he didn't have any diabolical plans regarding her...yet, but for all she knew this could be one big sham just to shame her and discard her. She quickly thought back to the events that had transpired between them the past few days to see if she could find any ulterior motives.

Unfortunately her face turned red and her thoughts stopped altogether when she remembered the kiss and her own wanton reaction to it. She began fidgeting awkwardly on his bed, hands fisting as her hips shifted uncomfortably, trying to relieve the sudden ache that had shown up between her legs. She looked everywhere but at him, which only led to him again stopping mid-pace to look over at her. A slow smirk spread across his face as he noticed her behavior.

"So...I see that remembering a little of your past hasn't made you forget about our little..._incident_..." He said slowly, his voice dripping with numerous innuendo's. If possible she turned a little redder and looked down at the bedding. The she suddenly comprehended where she was exactly and her expression turned mortified.

"You...this is...we didn't...oh,god...did we?" She stammered out uncomfortably.

His smirk grew into a smug grin.

"Indeed we did...sleep together that is. If that's what you were getting at..."

She paled.

"But...there is a difference between _sleeping _and _sex, _Hermione, and I assure you in our clothed state, that we only slept. Together. In my bed."

Draco wasn't sure why he was tormenting her with the reminder that it was indeed his bed. Maybe it was the way she turned red and squirmed...?

"And I must say that you look quite excellent there Hermione. I think I'll chain you there and keep you as a pet."

She bolted and went for the door.

oooooooooo

"Ginny, have you lost your mind! That couldn't have gone worse!" Harry said, staring at his wife as though she had grown two heads.

"No,...because no one hexed anyone else, no one's dead, Hermione was getting snogged in a manner you haven't done to me since..."

"Please Ginny don't detail it." Fred, George, and Ron said at the same time but she ignored them.

"...that time when I was in seventh year and you went to Hogsmead when I owled you for that weekend and we rented a room from Madame Rosmerta. Do you remember Snape panicking in the hallway when he saw us undressing..."

"I'm gonna be ill." Ron said, looking as though it might me true. Harry was blushing in embarrassment as Fred and George pointed their wands at him.

"...each other? Anyways, they were doing that before I showed up, and then I managed to get a snack, which was probabaly Hermione's late lunch!" She finished with a satisfied grin.

Harry gave an apologetic smile before apparating, Fred and George following with the obvious intents of "maim and destroy" in mind. Ginny stood and stretched, then walked over to Ron and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Love ya, big bro." She said, then left him standing all alone in Hermione's apartment.

oooooooooo

Yeah... That last bit was the worst explanation of how it was good afternoon EVER. Ginny gets sidetracked y things too easily. Like her and Harry startling Snape at the Hogshead. And as for Hermione, the reason she's so mad...well... Draco was mean to her at school. But if she hadn't woken up angry so soon she probably would have remembered everything. You know how sometimes you wake up about midway through a dream or something because you get scared or sad or angry or something, then never end up finishing it? That's what happened to Hermione.

Anyways, you know the drill. Read and review please! I really appreciate it!

Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter go to: **Gwinna, Tefy, Allie, icyhotsista1422, **and especially **BreezenBy, **who reviewed every chapter all at once and left such lovely comments on all of them:cuddles BreezenBy: THANK YOU!

P.S, I apologize for any grammatical errors. I don't have a spell-check or a beta thingy on my computer so what comes out, is basically what comes out. I'm too lazy to reread it and fix all the mistakes I made. This goes for all the chapters before this and after this one.


	7. Parental Influence

Draco was across the room in a flash the moment she made a run for it. Before the door could even be opened he grabbed her by the waist and flung her up over his shoulder in a manner that could easily be mistaken as barbaric. Then, without further ado he flung her onto the bed and grabbed her wrists so she wouldn't try to hit him.

"Hermione..." He said, obviously tired of her antics.

"No! Lemme me go Malfoy!" She said sharply, arching up to try and dislodge him from his position above her. Immediately he pushed down to make that idea futile, thus causing him to lay practically sprawled on top of her. All movements stilled when she felt his breath by her ear and realized the position they were in.

"Think about the last few days Hermione. Think about right now. I know you're smart. You graduated top of our class, your marks even outdoing the ones by all the other magical schools. Think about how we've been these past days and compare it to the past. We're not the people we were then."

Her eyes closed in pain. She knew that, she knew it very well. But...the past was... Her eyes flew open. The past is exactly what it was, the past. He was right, they were different people. She wiggled her wrists out of his hands when she realized that the grip was loose and flung her arms around his back. He relaxed and hugged her back. For a few moments nothing happened except for the embrace, and then he felt her breath by his ear.

"I know...and I'm sorry...Draco."

Then she tensed.

"My parents!" She said in a panicked tone.

oooooooooo

Jane and Gregory Granger were sitting in their living room when it happened. At first it was a matter of Jane making basket out of thin wood pieces and Gregory reading a newspaper, but when the loud cracking sound happened both dropped the work they were doing and looked up only to see their deceased daughter. Jane's eyes welled up.

"Hermione?" She said, blinking rapidly to hold back tears. Her voice wavered.

"Hello mum."

Draco was forgotten as the mother and daughter rushed towards each other and embraced. Hermione and Jane's sobs filled the air as Gregory stood and watched amazed. Draco let a smile quirk his mouth when he saw the man pinch himself to see if he was dreaming or not. And then Jane stepped back a little and motioned for him to come forward, which he did, grabbing both daughter in wife about their waists and crushing them to him. His face buried itself in his daughters hair as sobs shook his shoulder.

Draco began feeling like a fifth wheel at that moment, and decided to walk over to the fireplace. On top of it were tons of pictures, all muggle in design except for one. He stared at it, almost mesmerized. In the background Hogwarts Castle stood boldly. In the foreground Hermione stood with her parents, dressed in traditional wizarding garb and holding a diploma. She was waving and grinning at the camera, along with her parents. A flash of movement in the background caught his eye and he watched his younger self walk past them, so far into the background that only his hair gave him away.

The rest of the pictures did not move at all, and he wasn't sure whether her preferred it that way or not. There was one of Hermione as a small girl, jumping out of a swing. Her bushy hair was shorter, and her face was happy beyond anything he had known. Another one showed her with Harry as teenagers in front of some place that said "Disneyland" on it. A huge mouse was being hugged by Hermione in it. A few more showed her in various stages of life. As a baby, as a little girl, a teenager…

There was a picture of her in her gown that she had worn for the Yule Ball. It was further back, and harder to see, but it was another wizarding picture.

In it she twirled around, letting the gown flow about her like some fairytale princess of old. Her hair was still down, and already straight. He was amazed to see that it went all the way to her midback.

A polite cough sounded behind him and he turned to meet the hazel eyes of Hermione's mother. He gave a polite bow.

"Mrs. Granger."

Her eyes were still shiny and puffy from all the tears she had cried, and her face had wet streaks going down it. Regardless she was still a striking woman.

"Hermione said that you were a friend. Did you two know each other in Hogwarts?"

He glanced at Hermione, amusement in his eyes, then looked back at Mrs. Granger.

"You might say that."

"Hmm…I don't remember you."

Hermione walked up and put an arm around her mom's waist.

"Mum…this is Draco Malfoy. We um…weren't friends."

"That rotten Malfoy boy?" Her father interrupted, glaring at Draco.

"Yes, dad. But he's not as rotten as he used to be. Only a little."

"She means to say that I'm horrible now. Much worse from back then." Draco said, trying to make the tense air a little easier to breathe in. He pointed his index fingers and placed them on either side of his head in mock horns. "See? Pure evil."

Hermione gave a tight laugh as her mom relaxed a little. Unfortunately Draco's teasing had the opposite effect on her father, whose lips pursed in disapproval.

"Dad, he's kidding. He's a good person now."

"Once a bad egg, always a bad egg."

"Da-ad."

"I don't like him."

Hermione's shoulders slumped in defeat. She looked at Draco.

"I…well…personally I want you here, but this might be easier without you. I'm sorry Draco, but can you let me be alone with them for a while?"

He nodded, and blushed when she stood on tiptoe and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He apparated without a farewell.

oooooooooo

Ron Weasley was upset.

No, that was an understatement. He was livid. He was jealous. He was wishing Draco Malfoy had died all those years ago, or been put in Azkaban, but he was not _just _upset.

He had been trying for years to get Hermione to notice him as more than a friend, and then Malfoy had to come along and spoil everything.

So what if they hadn't been entirely honest with Hermione? After what had happened during the final battle it wasn't a shock. And so what if they had done as they were told by St. Mungo's? Any muggle doctor would have said the same. Let her regain her memories on her own terms. Tell her nothing about her past, real or imagined that might affect that, and let her live her life. Letting her know about a past she doesn't want to remember may damage her mind.

They had done a fine job of doing that too, regardless of the pain it brought her. Regardless of the fact that they had to hurt her parents in the process, by telling them that their daughter did not want to see her, but if they hadn't modified their memories of the war…It was just better this way. He wished he could tell Hermione about the past, he really did, but the doctors said no to the world before the war, and cold logic said no to the world during.

He kicked a chair over in his apartment to help ease his frustration over the matter. In front of the TV his daughter sat, a reminder of the days when he had been with Lavender, before her death.

"Daddy, could you not be loud right now, I'm watching the Lord of the Rings."

He sighed, then let a small, sheepish grin poke though.

"Don't four-year-olds watch stuff like…Barney or…I dunno, something more childish?"

She rolled her eyes and gave a huff.

"Stupid four-year-olds watch Barney. I watch the Lord of the Rings."

He gave a full grin then, letting out a chuckle as well. "Okay then, do as you like." Not that she didn't usually do so. In fact whenever she was at the wizarding daycare he sent her too he often had reports of her disobeying orders and bossing some of the other kids around. At home, even when he tried to spend time with her she didn't like sharing it. As of last year she was 'grown up' and being a big girl meant that daddy was unnecessary. His sister and Hermione and his mom were okay to hang around with, but daddy wasn't fun enough.

Ron Weasley hated that part of parenting. And if she was feeling like he was uneccesary at this age it could only get worse when she became a teenager.

Ron Weasley now had a migraine of epic proportions.

oooooooooo

She appeared in his fireplace, a few hours later. Draco looked up from the book he had been reading, and quickly stood and walked over to her. She looked happy, but upset.

"Apparently the reason they have not tried to contact me is because they received a letter, from me, saying that I had no desire to associate with them for the time being. I also mentioned that I would contact them at a later date to resume contact with them." She said, looking a little confused.

"Er…" Was all Draco could think to say.

"That's what I said too. Then I told them the truth, as far as I know it."

"Well…that's good."

"They invited us to dinner tomorrow."

"Us?"

"You, myself, and Harry and Ron if they can be in a room with you longer than one minute without the urge to maim and destroy being acted upon."

"I can control myself if they do."

"I'm not mentioning it to them."

"Oh…then…okay."

"You'll go?"

"Yes."

She smiled at him and abruptly tackled him in a hug.

oooooooooo

A/N: Whew! It's been forever since my last update, hasn't it? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, short though it may be, review, and stay tuned for the next one!

Thanks to: **csmith20, Sirius's Crazy Chick, Breezenby, Allie, icyhotsista1422, Gwinna, The Lady of the Four Leafed Clover, Jane H.A.S. Doe, cheeky splash, S E Cooper, Varietygirl9143, **and** Dom-Basher CHAMPION.**


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